Stay
by storyfyingmaj
Summary: They've parted with so much unsaid. What will happen to them now that time and distance have become two more factors working against them?
1. Chapter 1: Ask me

[ONGOING] _**Stay**_

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**Chapter 1: "Ask me."**

**Thursday, June 24, 2010 4:25 pm EDT**

She brushed her ponytail over one shoulder, carefully looking at the man sitting silently next to her on the park bench. Her other hand was wrapped tightly around the warm cup that rested on her thigh, welcoming the heat of the cheap coffee emanating through the cardboard collar despite the hot, humid air that surrounded them - it comforted her somewhat, helped her feel secure, in this uncertain moment.

Tracing those familiar features with her eyes, she noticed every curve, every crease. They softened in the weariness of the afternoon, relaxing with the exhaustion he undoubtedly felt. His strong hazel eyes were fixed upon his own cup, resting in his hands. She felt certain that he was holding it with the same amount of desperate force as she was.

The somber silence was suffocating them.

They hadn't been able to hold eye contact during this outing, much as they hadn't been able to hold a steady flow in their conversation. No matter how casual they tried to make this meeting, no matter how hard they pretended that this was no different from any _other_ meeting, they both knew just _how _different things were now. She had moved her belongings out of the lab last week and this was the first time they had actually gotten together since then - and despite the years they had shared in both professional and personal settings, they felt so foreign with each other now.

She _hated_ it and the stiff set of his shoulders told her that he hated it too.

They had so much they needed to say - so much they knew they _had _to say - but they both couldn't speak. It had been that way for the past few months and she realized how foolish it was for them to think that the finality of this particular meeting would change anything. They had been partners, comfortable with working together and happy to hold each other - equals so alike in personality and principles that every fight only brought them closer.

So why was it that they would part as intimate strangers?

She dreaded the plane that awaited her tomorrow morning even more now.

She turned her gaze back to the cup, placing both hands upon it.

The ticket was bought, the job acquired, the home found, the good-byes said - finalized, everything was finalized.

_Everything?_ She took a deep breath, raising her head, _There are so many words that need to be said... Why did we waste so much time?_

_No use lamenting, Bonasera. Open your mouth - speak up. _She could at least say the most important ones, "Ask me."

She heard him shift beside her, straightening up, and she turned to meet his gaze. "What?" he replied mechanically, a slight furrow denting his brow.

She forced her tone to remain firm and even, not wanting to show any physical weakness even though she was baring everything before him now, "Ask me to stay."

Another moment of silence passed, their eyes fixed upon each other's faces - forcing themselves to stay impassive even though their eyes were speaking volumes of muted words.

She wanted to stay.

He wanted her to stay.

Why did they always make things so _complicated_ when it came down to the things that mattered?

He let his lips part ever so slowly, his words faint but unyielding, "I can't."

"Okay," she gave a few moderate nods, pressing her lips together into a small smile, "Okay."

He bit his lip ever so slightly, mustering her name, "Stella - "

She gave the barest shake of her head and dropped her gaze, turning away to finally raise the cup to her lips and taste the bitterness upon her tongue. She took a few sips, building up the strength to summon a bright smile as she kept her eyes fixed upon the scenery in front of them. "I'll miss you, Mac," she said lightly, lowering her cup.

He let his fingers wrap around her wrist, gently stroking the base of her thumb as he replied back almost inaudibly, "Me too."


	2. Chapter 2: It's Not Important

[ONGOING]_** Stay**_

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**Chapter 2: "It's not important."**

**Wednesday, January 20, 2011**

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**New Orleans, Louisiana 7:23 pm CDT/8:23 pm EDT**

Stella furrowed her brow quite fiercely at the paperwork at hand - the lab was in need of some new equipment and the numbers on the pages were quite daunting. _Oh my - _She heaved a great sigh, letting the packet in her hands settle upon the desk. _Just numbers, Stell - they're just numbers... _She quickly flipped to the last page, closing her eyes as she furiously signed off on the invoice. It wasn't that she felt any remorse for spending the money on such objects - the lab needed the new equipment, it kept them abreast of the current sciences and would speed up certain processes. It was rather that she knew it would be more trouble convincing the higher authority that the taxpayer's bills _needed_ to be spent on such new-fangled machinery. She thought of her normally morose-looking boss, wondering if it was possible for the silent Sydney Parker to look even more melancholy. But she was sure of one thing, _Chief is _not _going to be happy..._

"That bad?"

Stella snapped her eyes open to see one of her CSIs standing in the doorway to her office, a broad, amused grin stretching across his face. She colored slightly, embarrassedly clearing her throat as she shoved the paperwork to the side before pushing herself to her feet. She wagged a warning finger at the tall man as she strode towards the doorway, "You didn't see anything, Walker."

"Of course not," he replied agreeably, backing away as she marched past him. Her heels clicked assertively across the tiles as she made her way to ballistics to get a copy of the results from earlier, her wild curls bouncing with each step, but stopped at the sound of a throat being cleared quite violently.

"Yes?" she smiled pleasantly, pivoting to look at Thomas Walker.

The man raised a thick, dark eyebrow, frowning disappointedly, "You didn't forget, did you?"

Stella snapped her wrist up, glancing at the time before showing her watch to the younger man. "7:25!" she said with a firm nod, shrugging nonchalantly, "I still have five minutes."

Walker rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he turned away to enter her office, "Fine, fine... I'll be right here."

Stella chuckled quietly as she went on her way.

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**New York, New York 8:50 pm EDT/7:50 pm CDT**

Flack loudly rapped his knuckles against the glass, striding into Mac's office. Mac raised his head tiredly, eyeing the younger man who gave him an unamused raise of his brow.

"_What_ are you still doing here, Mac?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I'm quite partial to my chair," Mac replied dryly, leaning back into the leather padding.

"Uh-huh," Flack sniffed, unsnapping his cross to place his hands seriously on his hips. "When was the last time you tried out a bed?"

Mac ran a hand over his face, stifling a yawn, "Don't ask."

"Well," Flack strode towards the desk, slamming a firm hand on the papers Mac's free fingers were crawling towards, "I know for a fact that it's been 48 hours since you've even _entertained_ the idea of sleep so - " he swiped Mac's other hand from the man's face, snapping his icy blue eyes to the other's hazel ones, "_Go home, Mac._"

"I _will_," Mac assured him, firmly tugging on the papers trapped beneath Flack's broad hand. "Just - "

" - nuh-uh," Flack slid the papers away from his boss, pursing his lips, "Go home _now._"

Mac smiled faintly, relinquishing the papers and crossing his own arms, "Fine - what are _you_ still doing here then?"

"Dragging the other workaholic home," Flack said exasperatedly, straightening up with a scratch of his nose. "But she's refusing to leave until you leave."

Mac gave a light snort of laughter, forcefully getting to his feet with a shake of his head, "I should have known that you had ulterior motives."

"Psh," Flack clapped a hand on Mac's arm, "Think of this as me doing you a favor. Imagine if I let Jen come after you for not going home! The woman's pregnant, Mac - she's gotten even bossier!"

"Hey!" Jen wrinkled her nose, sliding into the office, "I heard that!" The dark-haired detective didn't look too pleased though there was a distinct twinkle to her deep brown eyes.

"Er," Flack grinned sheepishly, quickly moving to his wife's side. "Jen - "

The Asian woman shrugged him off, sniffing, "Don't even, darl." Mac turned off his computer as he watched the couple amusedly. "Plus," she elbowed Flack in the side for good measure, "It's only been three months - I'm barely pregnant."

Mac raised a brow, eyeing the noticeable bump, "'Only?'"

Jen snapped her gaze on Mac, her frown twitching into a smile, "Okay, _fine – _then at least humor the pregnant woman." She shook her finger at him, approaching the desk from the side, "You should be going home!"

"I'm going, I'm going," he assured her, chuckling as he gathered his belongings. He reached around her, grabbing his coat off the hanger. He nodded at Flack, giving her a reprimanding look, "_You_ should be going home too, you know."

She waved her hand dismissively with a sniff, "I'll get there eventually - "

" - _no_," Flack frowned, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders from behind, "You're going _now._"

"I said - "

" - you said you'd go home if Mac did," Flack cut her off firmly, leading her towards the door. "Mac's leaving so go grab your jacket and go down to the car."

She abruptly broke away from him with a mischievous grin, pushing open the door with one hand as she shook a ring of keys at him with the other. "Well, Mr. Bossy," she said haughtily, "How about I just leave you here?"

Flack groaned, patting his pockets, "You little pickpocket!"

"You scoundrel!" she countered in a comically gruff tone with a wave of her fist.

Flack turned to Mac with a weary look, "Do you see what I have to deal with?"

Jen smiled broadly, waving her hand, "Good night, Mac - I'll see you tomorrow!" Then sticking her tongue out at her husband, she rushed out.

"You have to admit," Mac said with a grin, sweeping on his jacket, "Pregnancy suits her. She's gotten very - how shall I say it? - _cute__._"

Flack smiled fondly after the feisty female, warning him, "Just don't let her hear you say that."

"No, of course not," Mac said warmly, moving towards the door.

Flack went out, holding the door open. "Have you talked to Stell?" he asked casually.

Mac shook his head, shifting his briefcase to his other hand, "No, I haven't gotten a chance to."

Flack gave Mac a pointed look as he stepped into stride with him, "_'Haven't gotten a chance?'_"

"She's busy, I'm busy - we're all busy," Mac said almost defensively, glancing over at the tall man.

"Jen chatted with her earlier," Flack responded, fixing him with a careful look, "She asked about you."

Mac decided to stop the conversation before it truly began. He cleared his throat as he leaned forward to hit the elevator button, "Don't you have enough on your plate?" He was quite glad of the speediness the doors sprang open with.

Flack followed him into the elevator, cheekily replying, "If Messer can handle a kid, I can." The doors shut quietly and the machine began to descend.

Settling into place, Mac felt Flack's eyes boring into him. He gave an inward sigh as he shot the man a reassuring grin, "I'll call her."

"Really?" Flack raised a brow with mild skepticism.

Mac nodded wearily, firmly repeating, "Really."

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**New Orleans, Louisiana 10:03 pm CDT/11:03 pm EDT**

Stella laughed as she shoved her partner, "Wow - _really_?"

"_What_?" Walker teased, sky-blue eyes twinkling.

She just shook her head at the man, raucously continuing her laughter, "You are _impossible_, Tom."

"Something that you liked about me, as I recall," he replied mischievously as he knocked his forehead against her shoulder with a cross of his arms.

She gave another shake of her head as she smiled fondly at the skilled detective. Thomas Walker had been with the crime lab for as long as Stella's predecessor had been and in the first few, daunting weeks, his encouraging smiles and words of caution had been what really helped her to adjust. It was hard to believe that he was still quite young, what with his brooding, dark curls and rugged grin and his many years with the department and vast experience in the crime lab. He would always defensively retort that he was only 4 years younger than her, "Stop calling me 'young man!'"

"So?" she would reply impertinently, "Anyone under the age of 40 is young to me."

He would scoff, telling her to round his age up, "Then I'd be 40 too!"

Shaking her head slightly, Stella slid to the edge of the couch to swipe up her wine glass from the coffee table. "Don't flatter yourself," she said with a smirk.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" he gave her a highly affronted look, sitting up.

She just drained the last sip of the red liquid and coyly waved the empty glass at him.

The man rolled his eyes, grumbling as he got to his feet. She stifled a laugh as she watched him exaggeratedly stomp over to her kitchen to refill her cup. Leaning back in her couch, she gave a wistful smile and allowed herself a bit of vanity. After all, she _had_ charmed the smart and passionate - not to mention,_ younger_ - leading CSI of her crime lab, hadn't she? Never mind that she hadn't been trying at all. She was allowed to admit that it was quite an accomplishment - Thomas Walker was charming and capable and _not_ an arrogant bastard or crazy psychopath.

_Or an obstinate_ fool –

Stella cut off the biting voice calling out from the back of her mind, _He's obstinate_ _but he's _definitely _not a_ _fool._

The voice ignored her, adding, _What about yourself?_

Stella ignored the pointed statement.

Yes, a part of her felt a degree of pride and satisfaction as she eyed the handsome man of considerable height and muscular build standing on her linoleum and she wasn't afraid to admit that she had become more than just a _little_ fond of him...

But what was this part of her, wishing that those broad shoulders facing her were considerably shorter and slighter - more comfortable and familiar?

_"Familiar," Stell?_ _Is he really so "familiar" anymore?_ The little voice in her head said snidely.

_Oh shut up, you. _Stella wrinkled her nose, _If _he_ isn't "familiar" then all these people around me are goddamn aliens._

She heaved a small sigh, glancing out her apartment's windows, _I sound _insane_._

_"Sound?" How about, "I _am_ insane." _The voice returned, more bitter than before, _You left New York, didn't you?_

_Ugh, shut up, shut up, shut up - !_

" - Stella?"

She jerked out of her thoughts, turning towards Walker with a ready smile on her lips, "What? Having trouble opening the bottle?"

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**New York, New York 11:00 pm EDT/10:00 pm CDT**

Mac should have been either asleep or... asleep. At this point, after an overly long shift and being forced home by his friends, he had no excuse for being awake. He was definitely tired enough - God, was he tired enough... - and he had been moving from his bed to his armchair in a vain attempt to find a comfortable place to lose consciousness in.

It had been almost two hours since he came home from the lab.

Really, he didn't know why he had thought that sleep would come any easier tonight than any other night since -

_Not so easy to pretend to forget about it when you're here - _alone_ - with nothing to distract you, is it?_ A scornful voice jeered.

Mac rolled his eyes, rubbing a hand over his exhausted face, _Shut up._

_I can't shut up - you're thinking it, aren't you?_ The voice admonished, insolently adding, _You're just thinking it in the very _deep _places so I've got to voice it._

_This is a bad._ Mac sighed, getting to his feet. _It's become a habit to talk to my inner voice - _myself_..._

Everyone_ does it,_ the voice snorted. _No need to feel so ridiculous._

_Yeah? _He pursed his lips, moving to grab his cup of water off the dresser. _Well, _my _inner voice makes me do impulsive things like call people at - _

_- you know it's only 10 there._ The voice cut him off in a bored tone, _Plus, _I _don't make you do anything - _you _do that fine on your own._

Mac gave another roll of his eyes as he took a deep gulp of water. _You know, I'm _really _glad that no one can read my mind - if they had to talk to you - I mean, _me - _in this context_ -

_Hey, we're not _so_ different!_ The voice replied defensively, _We're both obstinate fools, aren't we?_

_No comment._ Mac set the glass back down, moving back towards his armchair in the living room.

_Oh look, your phone awaits!_ The voice said in a considerably politer tone, _You know, you _did_ promise Don._

Mac eyed his mobile for a moment before closing his eyes to massage his temple. _No._

_Oh for - _

_- shut up, _Mac frowned, _Let me think._

The voice snorted, _What do you think I'm doing?_

_Oh for - _Mac swept up his phone and dialed the numbers with practiced ease and alacrity.

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**New Orleans, Louisiana 10:08 pm CDT/11:08 pm EDT**

"Your phone, Stell," Walker shrugged, holding out the mobile before him as he returned with her filled glass. "It rang three times then stopped."

She furrowed her brow curiously, taking the object in hand and flipping it open. Her eyes landed on the message window - _1 Missed Call_ - and somehow, even before she opened it, she knew who it was. "Hm," she murmured, briefly scanning the recent calls log before tossing her phone aside.

Walker raised a brow, "Not going to call them back?"

"It's not important," she said casually with a jerk of her shoulders. She took the offered glass, quickly taking a sip of the piquant liquid and welcoming the sensations upon her tongue as a much needed distraction.

Walker shook his head with a wry snort, "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

Stella made a face, pursing her lips, "Aren't you supposed to humor your boss?"

"Isn't that what I'm doing?" he replied dryly, holding up the stoppered bottle he had brought over with him.

She gave an approving nod, chuckling, "Good man."

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**N.B.**

* The character "Jen" is an OC that I created for one of my completely original series. I crossed her over into my first _CSI: NY_ fic _Invested._ to match her up with Don Flack. _Stay_ doesn't fall within _Invested._'s timeline (since in _Invested._, Stella never left) but I kept Jen with Don here so that they can have some complication-free romance time which they don't get too often. So yes, I really mean "Jen" and it is not a typo of "Jess." If you're curious about _Invested._, you can go to my blog and read it there - it's a _CSI: NY _fic that has the team solving traditional cases as well as different overarching storylines for each characters in a manner similar to the original series. I won't be posting _Invested._ on FFdotnet because it's already at a considerable number of chapters and I don't want to go through re-uploading each chapter. I'm sorry if my inserting Jen here without really explaining her irks anyone but I couldn't help it - I was writing and that's how it came out... (Plus, you won't see much of her - if at all after this chapter - because this is a Mac/Stella-centric fic.)

* Also, I assigned the characters birthdays because there wasn't an official profile on them - I like knowing the ages of characters so I can figure things out - so Stella is 41 turning 42 at this point. (The birthdays I assigned: Mac Taylor - February 18, 1961; Stella Bonasera - July 25, 1969; Sheldon Hawkes - May 27, 1970; Danny Messer - September 29, 1976; Lindsay Munroe - March 13, 1976; Don Flack - January 28, 1978; Jess Angell - October 21, 1978; Aiden Burns [deceased] - June 17, 1980)


End file.
